


if melodies could change the world.

by evangelistofstars



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: (both in eury's backstory don't freak out, (haven't decided whether or not i'm making this a fix it au, Angst, Backstory, Canon Era, Canon Timeline, Canon Universe, Dust Bowl, Flower metaphors, Fluff and Angst, Great Depression, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Possible Character Death, Pre-Canon, Tragic Romance, but with some london and broadway thrown in too, decide which orph and eury you picture, god i love these idiots, it's completely up to you, mostly based on nytw hadestown, possible canon divergence, rip orphydice :(, the ships are healthy she's just been through shit in the past), they're so in love, we shall see)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-23 20:16:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21087191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evangelistofstars/pseuds/evangelistofstars
Summary: Orpheus was a poor boy, with a rhythm and a rhyme.Eurydice was a hungry young girl, no stranger to hard times.She was but a wilting lily petal on the river they called Styx.She'd waited for the one she loved too long, so now she drifts.Orpheus was a sunflower, as bright as summer's day.Always leaning towards the light, he saw the world his way.When she called out to him he came, to see what she had done.Orpheus was a sunflower. Eurydice was his sun.





	1. in fields of flowers, the tale begins.

_ Eurydice was a hungry young girl.  _

_ A runaway, from everything that’s ever been.  _

_ She was no stranger to the world.  _

_ No stranger to the wind. _

_ She was no stranger to the voices in her head. _

_ Three old women, always singing in the back of her mind. _

_ They called them the Fates, the Sisters Three. _

_ And wherever it was this young girl went, _

_ The Fates were close behind. _

_ Always whispering in the young girl’s ear, _

_ To sway her to and fro. _

_ She’d hurry up and hit the road _

_ Any way the wind would blow. _

_ And that’s how it had always been. _

_ All she’d ever known. _

_ Until one day, a poor boy came, _

_ And asked to take her home. _

_ She was no stranger to the wind,  _

_ Always singing in the back of her mind.  _

_ No stranger, certainly, to the world.  _

_ No stranger to hard times.  _

_ For Eurydice was a young girl,  _

_ But she’d seen the way things were.  _

** _If the world could ever change,_ **

** _It wouldn’t be up to her._ **

These were the words that echoed in Eurydice’s mind one morning, as she roamed the fields of flowers near the makeshift shanty she was currently calling home. Eurydice had moved around her whole life, picking her life up and setting it down where she thought she’d be safe for the moment, where she’d be able to find food and firewood. When the food supply ran out, she picked up her life again, and put it back down somewhere else, grabbing what few belongings she had and constructing a new shanty to keep them safe from vagabonds and shelter her from the wind. Never trusting anyone who walked her way, for people turn on you just like the wind. Everybody for themselves, as it was in this world. She couldn’t worry about anyone else or allow herself to trust anyone who would end up taking advantage of her. She would do whatever it took to survive, picking her life up and putting it back down again any way the wind would take her. Listening to the voices of the three old women always singing in the back of her mind. All she’d ever known was how to hold her own, how to fend for herself in the cruel world that she lived in.

But she wasn’t _always_ this cynical. Eurydice had hope once, and it had been sucked right out of her. She was a young girl then, with stars in her eyes and a dream of how the world could be. She was still a young girl, but not quite as young, no longer the naive dreamer she once had been. Once, Eurydice had dreams of changing the world. She’d wanted to be a singer, dressed in a fine fur coat, singing in some bar or jazz club for all the world to see. Or perhaps an actress, a star of the silver screen. But she was a poor and hungry young girl. As a child, her family wasn’t rich, but they’d had enough to get by. She’d been too young to worry about money, and for a moment, she’d been happy. But then her mother died, and her father took to drinking, and it tore the family apart. She’d run away from home at sixteen, and there she was, a hungry young girl with stars in her eyes, and a whole world of hardship ahead of her. She’d been taking care of herself for most of her life now, but now she no longer had a roof over her head, or a family to come home to. She was but a hungry young girl against the world, _against the wind._

And thus, the girl with stars in her eyes quickly abandoned her big dreams of being a singer or an actress. She couldn’t dream of being rich and famous and successful when she could hardly feed herself. It didn’t take long before the starry eyed girl grew cynical and weary of the world, and gave up trying to change it, or dreaming that she could. And thus, the hungry young girl who stands before us grew somewhat tough yet vulnerable. The stars in her eyes had long since faded and turned to dust. This was how the world was. No use trying to change it. _This was how things were, how they’d always been. Times were hard and they were only getting harder. This was the world. It would always be like this. There was no other way it could be._

That’s not to say there wasn’t any good in the world, that no part of life was worth living. There were certainly things that were beautiful. Like the music of a beautiful stranger, the sun when the weather was nice, and the sunrises and sunsets that accompanied it, and flowers, such as the ones in the field she walked in now. There were pieces of the world that were beautiful, little shreds of happiness to remind people to keep going, that times may be hard but it wasn’t entirely worthless. But these beautiful things were but bits and pieces of the world, and the big picture was ugly and cruel. Beautiful things existed if only to make it easier to tolerate the ugliness of the real world. If you distract yourself with nice details, the bigger picture doesn’t seem as bad.

Eurydice loved flowers, and surrounded herself with them the best she could. She fancied herself a lily, soft and delicate, she could so easily blow right away in the wind. Or perhaps, she was a poppy, bold in bright red, tough, yet not quite resilient enough to survive the winter. Or maybe she was a bright yellow sunflower, looking to the sun for small bits of hope in this harsh world. She’d always loved yellow, for it reminded her of a better world. Eurydice pondered which flower she would be as she stood in the field, her long yellow skirt blowing in the warm and gentle breeze. It was a beautiful summer morning, cooler than usual, but still warm, and the air smelled of flowers and fruits from the nearby trees. She wished the weather would stay like this, but she knew it wouldn’t last. Summer would fade into autumn, with its blustering wind and changing colors, the leaves falling from the trees that would no longer provide shelter from the wind, and autumn into winter, the bitter, dreaded cold where there was hardly any food.

But at the moment, the world was in full bloom, and though the seasons changed quickly and were hardly on time anymore, Eurydice hoped Hades would let the Lady Persephone stay a bit longer this year. She looked around at the flowers, beautiful and resplendent in summer’s bloom, before wandering a little further down the road. The flowers were beautiful, but they wouldn’t feed or shelter her through the winter. She needed to collect food and firewood while she still had access to it, or the upcoming winter would lead to her demise. The seasons were changing, after all, they never came on time, and she didn’t know how much longer the summer would last.

As she went a little further down the road, she thought she heard singing in the distance. A beautiful voice, a strum of a lyre. She didn’t think much of it, she’d had artists wander her way before, playing songs in crowded bars or for peasants around a campfire. She wouldn’t mind meeting another one, but she didn’t have time to investigate, she had work to do to prepare for the winter ahead. And, though she thought she’d heard music, she wasn’t entirely sure.

Eurydice had spent much of the day gathering food and firewood, and now the sun was setting, the sky was beginning to get dark. She sighed, satisfied with her progress, but tired from the day’s work, contemplating whether she’d rather sit down on her pile of firewood and rest for a bit, or see what else she could find before it got dark. Ever the practical young woman, she decided on the second option and began searching for more things to collect when a crunch of nearby footsteps directed her attention to the boy who now stood not far from her in the field.

She examined him closely. He was but a poor boy, as poor as she, or so it seemed from his tattered clothes, the holes in the knees of his faded gray jeans. He looked around Eurydice’s age, she reckoned he couldn’t be more than one or two years older than her, if not the same age exactly. He had a lyre slung on his back, the instrument clearly well used, judging from how worn the wood was. He was interesting, to say the least, and she couldn’t help but smile at the stranger. What she was not expecting, however, were the words he was about to say.

“Come home with me,” he said, with a pleading smile tugging at his lips.

Eurydice couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his statement. Well, if that wasn’t the most ridiculous thing to say to a girl you just met, Eurydice thought. He’d walked up with her and said_ “come home with me.”_ Not _“hello,”_ not_ “good evening,” _didn’t introduce himself by name. He’d just walked up to a stranger and said, _come home with me._

If he hadn’t piqued her interest before, he sure as hell had now. She was wary, but _two could play at this game._ She shook her head, laughing, and shot him a coy smile.

“Who are you?”

“The man who’s gonna marry you!” He almost scoffed, beaming at the girl in front of him.

Eurydice couldn’t help but laugh again._ Did he seriously think he was going to marry her? Who did he think he was?_ She was intrigued by him to say the least, but he had some nerve if he seriously thought he was going to take her home tonight. And though she’d never admit it out loud, Eurydice kind of admired his brazen boldness.

“I’m Orpheus,” he shook his head, holding out his hand, before repeating his original words to her, “Come home with me!”

_ Orpheus. **Orpheus,**_ she repeated to herself. What a beautiful name. Beautiful and kind of mysterious, like saying it holds some sort of power unknown to man. Kind of like the boy himself, she thought. _Orpheus._ His name echoed like a symphony. And yet, here he was asking her to come home with him yet again. 

Orpheus wasn’t exactly unattractive, mind you. With his boyish smile, and his mess of fluffy hair, and his dreamy, sort of mysteriously soulful eyes that she felt she could just get lost in, Eurydice would call him rather handsome. She wouldn’t mind looking at him for a while….He seemed innocent enough as well, his eyes and smile kind, without a hint of alterior motives.

But even so, she’d only just met him, and the voices in her head were telling her not to trust him. She knew better than to trust some stranger she’d just met off the road, the last thing she would do was follow him blindly into his supposed home. He was cute, but he had _some nerve_ if he thought he was getting her tonight. 

“And who am I?” She teased. If he wanted to take her home tonight, she was going to have to put him to the test, and she had a pretty strong feeling it was a test that he wasn’t gonna pass.

Hesitating a little, she gave him her hand.

Orpheus paused, staring at the girl before him. As confident as he was, he didn’t know who she was! He’d just met her, for the gods’ sake, and already she was putting him on the spot. He decided to tell her what he did know, which was that she made his heart play little melodies in his chest, and she was coming home with him tonight.

“The girl who makes me wanna sing,” He said, face settling somewhere between a smile and a smirk. “The woman who I’m marrying.”

Eurydice had given Orpheus her hand expecting him to shake it, and was quite surprised when he bent down and pressed a kiss into it instead, making her heart flutter in her chest, and her cheeks turn a deep shade of crimson. She pushed away the feeling, for she was yet to be convinced of any reason to come home with him.

“Oh, a singer? Is that what you are?” She shook her head, giving him a teasing smirk.

"Nice try. I’m Eurydice.”

Orpheus shook his head at her sarcastic response. “Well, I also play the lyre,” he said, patting the instrument strapped to his back. He never went anywhere without it, and today he had been working on his song. His smile widened when she told him her name. _Eurydice._ That had to be the most beautiful name he’d ever heard. _Well, she was certainly beautiful, and a beautiful girl must have a beautiful name, right?_

Eurydice sighed. She’d had her heart broken one too many times, by one too many proud men like Orpheus, all of them who wanted to get into her pants or take advantage of and use her for sex, or who’d seemed lovely and kind at first, but quickly became abusive. Since then, she’d learned not to give her heart out to anyone, not to let herself fall for anyone, they’d all turn out bad in the end, and as much as she liked him, Orpheus was unlikely to be any different.

She shook her head coyly. “A _liar,_ and a _player_ too?! I’ve met too many men like you.” 

The smile on Orpheus’s face faded, before morphing into more of a smirk. “I’m not like any man you’ve met,” He sighed. At least he hoped he wasn’t. Orpheus had had some messy relationships himself, but he wasn’t the player type, and he certainly wasn’t a liar. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but laugh at her clever wordplay. They really would be perfect together, he thought.

Eurydice wanted to believe that Orpheus was different, like he wasn’t like the other men she’d met. But trusting him meant risking too much, and she remembered what the Fates had told her once:

> _ People turn on you just like the wind. _
> 
> _ Everybody is a fair weather friend.  _
> 
> _ In the end, you’re better off alone… _

It wasn’t worth it. She shook her head. “What makes you so different?” she sighed, laughing at the boy in disbelief.

The boy -- Orpheus -- stepped closer to her, placing one hand on her shoulder, and gesturing the other into the air. “You see the world?” he asked, gesturing around him.

Eurydice sighed. Her instincts told her to flinch away from his touch, he’d just met her and now he was putting his hands on her, that was never a good sign. But his touch was warm and seemingly well-intended, and left her with a sort of fluttery feeling inside. Her heart was racing and she felt her cheeks heat up. Trying not to let him see how flustered she was, she moved his hand off of her, and took a moment to compose herself so she could answer him.

She looked at the world around her. The cruel, ugly, unbridled world full of poverty and hunger and inconsistency. The seasons came and went so quickly, she never knew what was coming, but she knew how to prepare for the world. Hot one day, cold the next. One day everything seemed to be going alright, and the next, the entire world was falling to pieces. The gods ruled this world and the people were powerless. The gods didn’t even see what they had done. They lived in wealth and comfort while the people up above lived in poverty, struggling to survive. Times were hard, and they were only getting harder. This was the world. She saw it. She’d lived in it. She’d spent her whole life trying to survive in it. _This was all she’d ever known._

“Of course I do,” she nodded, with a bit of an exasperated sigh.

“I’ll make it beautiful for you,” Orpheus bent down, picking a flower out of the ground, a bright red carnation, and placing it in Eurydice’s hand with a smile. She felt her heartbeat quicken again, that same fluttering feeling as before, and she was starting to think she knew what it meant. Orpheus made her feel like that. “For you I’ll change the way it is.”

The fluttering feeling came to a halt. _Could he really be so naive as to think that he could make the world beautiful? For the gods’ sake, nobody had ever done that. It would be impossible for a mortal to change the world, why would he even try?_

“With what?” she laughed, shaking her head in disdain.

Orpheus took the lyre that had been attached to his back and slung it around so he could play it, patting its worn wood smugly and smiling at her. “With this!” 

Eurydice rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe this boy! He seriously thought he could change the world by _playing a song on the lyre._ If only the world actually worked like that. “I’m sure you play it well, but only the gods can change the world. You and me? Can’t change a thing!”

Orpheus stepped towards her, smirking as he took the flower from her hands and placed it in Eurydice’s hair. “You haven’t heard me sing.”

Eurydice laughed, but this time it was more of a flustered giggle than disdainfully laughing at him. She tried to suppress it, not wanting to catch feelings so soon, as she knew that could never end well, and he would just end up breaking her heart like the rest of them. But still, he sparked something in her, made her happy in a way that few things or people could, and hey, that counted for something, didn’t it? She’d never felt quite like this before.

“Are you always this confident?” she mused.

Orpheus’s smirk grew, as if to say, ‘yes, as a matter of fact I am, does that bother you?’ but instead he took her hand in his, taking in her big, dark eyes. “When I look at you, I am.”

Eurydice felt herself blushing again, and she was too deep in Orpheus’s eyes to try and fight the fluttery feeling that arose. She made him confident? Clearly, he was already a confident person, he oozed a charm and charisma that don’t just come by for a moment, so she could assume that he was always somewhat like that. But if she made him more confident than clearly he already was, well...now this Orpheus interested her more than ever.

“When you look at me, what do you see?” she pondered, cocking her head.

Orpheus placed a hand underneath Eurydice’s chin. “I see someone stronger than me,” he smiled with earnest eyes. “Someone who survives.”

For a second, Eurydice wanted to fall for it. He wasn’t a liar or player, he wasn’t like any man she’d met. He was sweet, a little cocky, but full of a sort of optimism and hope she hadn’t seen in a long time. He reminded her of herself when she was younger, a dreamer with stars in his eyes and a vision of how the world could be, and how beautiful he could make it. But the voices in her head started whispering. The Fates were not convinced.

> _“What kind of bullshit is that, he doesn’t even know you,”_ said Clotho, the youngest Fate, ever sassy and temperamental. 
> 
> _“He’s sweet, but he can’t provide for you. A song won’t give you food or shelter,”_ Lachesis chimed in, the middle sister, she was the voice of reason, the calmest among the Fates.
> 
> _“People turn on you just like the wind,”_ sneered cruel Atropos, the oldest of the sisters.

The Fates were right. Lachesis especially. Orpheus was sweet, and Eurydice believed his intentions were good, but he didn’t have the means to provide for her. A singer, a musician, a poet of sorts, but without a day job to pay the bills, and who knows how much he’d even make for walking around singing songs. A singer couldn’t provide her, couldn’t give her food or shelter her from the wind, and it was for that reason that Eurydice remained unconvinced.

“And why should I become your wife?” she teased, tearing herself away from him and leaning against a nearby fencepost. She better get a good reason, or he wasn’t gonna take her home.

“Maybe because….I make you feel alive?” Orpheus smirked, shooting her a knowing look. She didn’t like how he seemed to have her already figured out. The fact that he’d only just met her, yet claimed to know everything about her and her thoughts and feelings set her on edge. But that feeling of mistrust was quickly subsided when she saw the way Orpheus looked at her. He looked at her like she was his whole world, and the thought of that made her fluttery.

“Alive?” she tesed, seemingly impressed. She leaned further back on the fencepost, placing her arm up on part of it. “That’s worth a lot!” Her eyes flitted to the flowers in the field before returning to Orpheus, and she gave him a testing sort of look as she smirked.

“What else you got?” 

If Orpheus wanted to take her home, he was going to have to prove that he was worth her while. She liked him, a lot, but she didn’t fully trust him, she still wasn’t sure she could risk following some vagabond musician boy home after having met him on the road that day. She wanted to hear this song of his, see if he really was all that he made himself out to be. Eurydice was skeptical, but she wasn’t adamant. Perhaps Orpheus would be able to convince her.

“I got a song,” Orpheus smiled, strumming a chord on his lyre.

“So I’ve heard, poet,” she played with the nickname, twirling around and leaning back against the fencepost, crossing her arms. “Play it for me, will you?”

He shook his head, looking down at the ground. “It isn’t finished…”

Eurydice thought back to the question she had pondered that morning. She saw it as an opportunity to learn a little more about Orpheus. She wondered what his answer would be.

“Hey Orpheus,” she asked, a bit more coquettishly than intended. “May I ask you a question?”

He nodded, looking up from the ground and turning to face her direction. “Shoot.”

“If you were a flower, what kind of flower would you be?” 

Orpheus cocked his head to the side pensively, pondering what she’d asked him. He didn’t know much about flowers, but he knew that they were pretty, and his favorite ones were probably those big, bright red ones, like the one he had picked and put in Eurydice’s hair.

“A red carnation,” he smiled, gesturing at the flower in her hair.

Eurydice laughed, and shook her head._ “Wrong,”_ she sighed, getting up from the fencepost and approaching Orpheus with a grin. “You’d be a sunflower.”

“And why is that?” He chuckled, not quite following.

“Because, poet, you’re full of sunshine, bright and vivid, just like a sunflower. Full of optimism and hope for the world. You’re always facing in the direction of the sun.”

Orpheus couldn’t help but smile. Here he was, thinking he’d had her figured out, but little did he know she’d thought the same for him. But what amused him most was how right she was, how perfectly she had described him. He had never thought about it that way, but she was right.

“Me, I’d be a lily,” Eurydice continued. “Or perhaps a poppy red. I’d once thought I might be a sunflower too, but my hope for the world is gone…” She sighed, looking down at the ground,

before looking back up into Orpheus’s big, soulful eyes. 

Eurydice looked around. Seeing that night had fallen around her, she realized she wasn’t aware just how long she had been talking to him, just how much time had passed. Orpheus had arrived during the last few hours of sunlight, and the sky had since gone dark, the sun having set, and the moon and stars glowing in its place. “Well, it’s getting late, I should go…”

“No,” Orpheus sighed, grabbing her arm. “Come home with me!”

She yanked her arm away from him, sighing. “I have to carry all this firewood home, all this food I’ve collected, I was supposed to do it before it got dark but it...must’ve slipped my mind.”

Orpheus took a step towards her. “Well, I can come with you...It looks like you’ve got a lot to carry, maybe I could help you take it back?”

Eurydice paused and examined him fully, deciding if she wanted his help. There was a lot of firewood, and she could use a second pair of hands…. “Deal,” she smiled, giving him an armful of stuff to carry and offerring him her free hand. 

He took her hand in his, letting her lead the way to her shanty. Eurydice played with her skirt a little, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as they walked.

“So what’s your song about?”

Orpheus sighed. “It’s about the gods. Hades and Persephone.”

“How interesting,” she mused. She of course knew the story, but she wondered how Orpheus would tell it. Would it be the same as the one she’d always heard, or would it be different?

As they reached her shelter, setting down the food and firewood they carried, Eurydice had made up her mind. She wanted to come home with Orpheus, but only if he sang her the song. She took his other hand, the one she wasn’t already holding, looking him in the eye. 

“Sing it for me, will you?” she smirked.

He shook his head. “It isn’t finished.”

The look in her eyes grew miscevious. “You wanna take me home?”   
  


Orpheus nodded an obvious yes in response.

“How about you sing that song for me, then?”

Orpheus sighed, swinging his lyre around front again. He sat down on the ground, strummed a few chords, and began to sing his song.

_ If Eurydice was a flower, she would be a lily, soft and delicate, she could so easily blow right away in the wind. Or perhaps, she was a poppy, bold in bright red, tough, yet not quite resilient enough to survive the winter. Clinging onto the last shreds of beauty, before she faded to dust. Orpheus was a sunflower. Bright, vibrant, always leaning towards the sun, always staying on the sunny side of life, big and bold, believing that he could make a change.  _

_ Orpheus was a sunflower in a field full of poppies and lillies. She’d never met anyone like him, and she’d never met anyone for which she felt the way that Orpheus made her feel. He was like nobody she’d ever met, and at the same time, she saw herself in him in a way. Not herself of the time, of course, but her younger self, the starry-eyed dreamer she had once been.  _

** _Orpheus was a sunflower._ **

** _And Eurydice was his sun._ **


	2. said the songbird to the poet, take me home.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it seemed the little songbird would indeed becoming home with the penniless poet that night. But she didn't plan to stay for long. Maybe a night or two. After that, she'd pack up her bags and go back home. Wherever home was. Any way the wind blows, perhaps.

_ Gather round, you vagabonds, _

_ Picking fruit and hopping freights _

_ Anyone who’s wondering, _

_ Wondering why the winds have changed _

Eurydice sat herself on the ground next to Orpheus, already entranced by the first couple lines of his song. It was sweet and soulful and began with an open invitation, not what she would expect in a song about the gods, but Orpheus seemed to defy all expectations, didn’t he.

_ I’ll sing a song of a love gone wrong, _

_ Between a mighty King and Queen, _

_ Gather round, and I’ll sing a song _

_ Of Hades and Persephone _

She watched as his fingers plucked another string on the lyre. He looked so focused, so raptly in tune with his music, it was almost as if he was lost within the world of his song. Perhaps his focus was what drew her in, it was contagious almost, she knew the story of Hades and Persephone by heart, yet she was on the edge of her seat. She couldn’t wait to hear his version.

_ Queen of flowers, queen of fields, _

_ Queen of the green and the growing earth _

_ Lady Persephone, half of the year, _

_ Was bound to stay down in the Underworld. _

Orpheus’s voice was intoxicating, so beautiful and unique, and she’d never heard anything like it in her life. It was soulful and magical and very high, not what she’d expected, but again, he defied all expectations. When he sang to her, she felt like she was under some sort of spell, like his voice had put her under a trance. That, and his beautiful poetry, the lyrics he had written, the spectacular imagery he had created to tell this story that everyone knew. How could he just do that? She didn’t understand it. She wished she had that sort of talent. It was almost like Orpheus’s music was a gift given to him by the gods.

_ On the other half, she could walk in the sun _

_ And the sun in turn burned twice as bright _

_ Which is where the seasons come from, _

_ And with them the cycle, _

_ Of the seed and the sickle, _

_ And the lives of the people, _

_ And the birds in their flight, _

Eurydice’s heart was racing, leaping out of her chest. Had Orpheus moved her this much? How had a song done this? Maybe he was right, maybe he did have power. If not to change the world, and make it permanently beautiful, then at least to make it not seem as bad for a little while. He had the power to inspire, to make you see how the world could be. The power to make you believe. Eurydice sat in rapt attention, as Orpheus sang his last verse.

_ Singing la la la la la la la _

_ La la la la la la la _

_ Oh singing, la la la la la la la _

_ La la la la la la _

He strummed a final chord and looked at her, awaiting a reaction from the songbird. She looked at him in shock, still trying to process how he managed to do that. In all of three minutes, he had managed to sweep the cynical girl who had given up on love straight off her feet.

“That’s good,” she smiled, clearly quite impressed with his performance.

“It’s not finished…” he shook his head, looking down at the ground again.

“I didn’t say that it was finished. I said that it was good,” she laughed, smiling at the ground before turning back to Orpheus. “And if it’s that good now, I can’t even imagine what it will sound like when it’s finished,” she gave him a teasing wink. “You’ll have to play it for me then.”

“Maybe I will,” he smirked. “If you’re still hangin’ around these parts.”

“When you sing your song, will it change the world?” She smirked.

“I’d like to believe that it will.”

Eurydice stood up from the ground, reaching a hand out to pull Orpheus up as well. “Lover,” she smirked, teasing him with nicknames once again. “Lover, if you can, tell me this,”

“If we are to be wed,”

_“When,”_ Orpheus interrupted. 

Eurydice rolled her eyes. “Very well. _When_ we’re wed, Orpheus, who’ll buy the wedding bands? I doubt either of us can afford them, times being what they are.”

Orpheus looked around, before taking Eurydice’s hand and dragging her to a nearby river. “When I sing my song, the rivers will sing with me. And they’ll break their banks for me, and give me all their gold, all I could want and all I could need to fashion a wedding ring for you, for your pretty hand.” He smiled at her, tossing a stone into the river for good measure.

“Oh, and I suppose the _trees_ are gonna lay the wedding table?” Eurydice laughed, rolling her eyes. She wished herself naive enough to believe that the rivers would give them the wedding bands, but practical as she was, she knew the world. The rivers and trees wouldn’t do anything for them, no matter what Orpheus said. But she wanted to hear his answer, out of amusement.

“Precisely!” Orpheus beamed. “For when I sing my song, the trees will sing with me, and bend their branches down and lay their fruit at my feet, all for our wedding table.” He took Eurydice’s hand and dragged her underneath a tree that stood by the river bank, picking a leaf off a branch, and placing it in her hair next to the flower. 

Eurydice ducked herself out from under the tree. “Very well, Orpheus,” she sighed. “But lover, who will make the wedding bed? If we are to be_ married,_ of course.” If his answer to this question was as ridiculous as his answers to the last two, she was just about to lose her mind.

Orpheus strummed a chord on his lyre, and a beautiful white bird flew down, landing straight on the poet’s hand. “When I sing my song, all the birds will sing with me. Like this, you see?” He played another chord, which summoned another white bird, this one landing right on the lyre itself. “They’ll all come flying around me, and lay their feathers at my feet,” The bird on his hand flew onto Eurydice’s shoulder, and she couldn’t help but giggle. How did he summon birds just by strumming a single chord? The more she learned about Orpheus, the more in awe of him she became. She took a step towards him, and the bird on her shoulder flew away. “We’ll lie down in eiderdown, my love. How’s that for a wedding bed?” With a swift motion, the bird on his lyre flew away too, leaving behind a long, white feather, which fell in Eurydice’s hair.

“Alright, _if you say so,_ poet,” she chuckled. As ridiculous as this sounded, she wondered if maybe he was right. His music did seem to have magical powers, and after all the magic he’d performed for her today, she wouldn’t write it off as completely impossible if he could move nature to provide for them with his music. But she was still cynical as always. “The birds and rivers and trees will provide for our wedding.”

She looked down at the ground, picking flowers, pretty yellow ones, arranging them before looking back up at him as she held them in her hand like a bridal boquet, with the red carnation that had been in her hair as the centerpiece. She walked over to Orpheus, placing a flower in the pocket of his jacket like a groom’s boutanier, and picked up her skirt, twirling around for him. 

“Well, don’t you look lovely, my bride,” Orpheus smiled, getting down on one knee as she held out her hand to him, and he pressed a kiss into it. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a spare piece of string, which he tied around Eurydice’s finger. “Your ring.”

Eurydice examined the ring of thread and laughed. “Well, I _was_ expecting gold, but it’ll do.”

“It’s a temporary ring, ‘til I can get you the gold one, love. Consider it a promise ring of sorts.

“Oh alright then,” she teased, pulling out her own piece of string and tying it around his finger. 

“I believe you need one too.”

Orpheus smiled and picked himself up off the ground, twirling Eurydice around. Eurydice looked down at the thread ring again, before her eyes flitted back to Orpheus.

_“Yes,”_ she said.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’ll come home with you, Orpheus.”

“Really?” Orpheus almost squealed. “I mean,” he covered up his previous statement, not wanting to seem overexcited (even though he was.) “Are you sure?”

Eurydice nodded, twirling her skirt again. “I’m sure, Orpheus. Take me home.”

“Alright then, shall we?” Orpheus said, offering her his arm.

She nodded and linked her arm in his, her skirt fluttering in the breeze as the two walked into the night. _“We shall,”_ she smiled, looking up at him, and he smiled at her in return.

And so it seemed the little songbird would indeed be coming home with the penniless poet that night. But she didn’t plan to stay for long. Maybe a night or two. After that, she’d pack up her bags and go back home. Wherever home was. **_Any way the wind blows, _**_perhaps._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaa sorry this chapter is so short, i had to make it shorter than the first one, not because i didn't have time or because i was lazy ans didn't feel like it, but because i had wanted to make it longer to match the first but there just........wasn't much else to say, the chapter had already reached a natural stopping point, and it would read really awkwardly if i added more, i said everything that needed to be said so i'm sorry it isn't as long. 
> 
> chapter 3 will be out soon bc i'm actually continually inspired for once and i'm enjoying writing this so much that i can't stop....i may actually finish a fic on here, can you believe? (rip @ my other fics i haven't forgotten you)
> 
> anyway i love these two.


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